The Shining
by changenotcoins
Summary: There's a hot guy in Kurt Hummel's bedroom. Too bad Blaine Anderson is dead. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** **This idea has been in my head for sometime, and I just had to get it down.** **This was way longer than I intended, but I couldn't find a stopping point. I had to introduce certain characters all in one chapter and so it turned out to be pretty long. And, sorry for the cliffhanger. But, you'll see where it all leads soon enough. ;)**

Kurt was not at all pleased with the situation he currently found himself in. Sure, he was happy for his father, and he definitely deserved happiness after everything he had been through. Since Elizabeth Hummel's death, Burt Hummel had been in a funk. But now he had Carole, who Kurt adored. And then there was Finn… Kurt had some affection as well for his new stepbrother, but it didn't extend too far quite yet. They hadn't known each other long and Kurt and Finn were still trying to get used to the idea of having a sibling. Kurt knew that Finn meant well, even if he was awkward and stuffed his face with food at every opportunity in a less than appealing way.

Burt had been kind enough to find a house that wasn't too old. Kurt had stressed this over and over to Burt, stating that he had a fear of old buildings. Burt had made a face, not really understanding Kurt and his quirky ways but ultimately agreed to move all four of them into a home where they could have their own rooms and close enough to the high school that Finn was attending.

The one Kurt would now be attending too. God, he just wanted his junior year to be _normal_. Of course, it couldn't be. Not with a new school, two new additions to his family, and a small town he knew he wasn't meant to be in. What was so hard about that? And yet, Kurt knew, it had never been normal for him in any sense of the word.

For one, he was gay. And he was damn proud of it. There was just no getting around the fact, however, that it could be a challenge. In a state like Ohio, and especially the small town of Lima where conservatives and bigots flocked in numbers, Kurt felt like an outcast if there ever was one. He knew that being gay was an enigma here where he was one of a kind, and it was hard adjusting. Adjusting to the torture and name calling and bullying and the looming fact that it'd take a miracle for him to ever be able to walk hand in hand down the street without getting dirty looks or hearing hushed whispers. Well, if he ever _found _a boyfriend.

And then there was the other _issue_.

Kurt furrowed his brown on his way to school with Finn. He kept staring out the window for some sign of one of them, but he just couldn't see _one_. This wasn't how it was supposed to be; there were supposed to be dozens of them here in Lima and yet he couldn't spot a single one. _Why_ weren't they here?

But then, why was he complaining? He gave a small smile as he continued to gaze out the window. Maybe he had finally escaped them. After all, this was his new start. So maybe he wouldn't have to deal with them anymore and he could just be a normal and get through his last two years of high school without a bump in the road.

He laughed bitterly then. _As if._ It wasn't ever that easy and he knew it. There was an explanation to this, he knew that much. And he was determined to find out what.

"Dude, you alright?" Finn looked at him then, his face twisted with some sort of worry. Kurt had to admit, as much as he found Finn to be his opposite, he had to admit that he did find Finn endearing, especially at times like this when he truly acted like the big brother. This entire arrangement was new to him but he was grateful that Finn was the one he was sharing it with. Considering it could have turned out _way_ worse. He could have gotten a _completely _idiotic brother, or worse, a homophobe. And Finn didn't appear to be either so he counted his blessings.

"I suppose I'm just nervous," Kurt replied, trying to avoid Finn's eye. He hated any sort of question that may lead to him having to explain why he was jumpy and panicky at times. He knew _that_ discussion was one best left alone. "Starting junior year at a new school in Lima, Ohio wasn't exactly how I imagined things going."

Finn gently patted him on the back and gave him a lopsided smile. "You have nothing to worry about, bro. Well, maybe not nothing…" Finn trailed off but at Kurt's widening eyes, he gulped and continued. "I mean, it is high school, you know. But I got your back, man. No worries."

Kurt wasn't sure how that was supposed to help but he appreciated the sentiment anyways. "Thank you, Finn," Kurt flashed him a strained smile. "It means a lot to me."

"So look, I have weight lifting for my first class and I don't wanna be late but I figured that you have your schedule and all that so you can find your way to your first class, right? And someone can show you the way if you get lost. I mean, not that I don't want to show you around or whatever, but…"

"It's okay, Finn. I'm sure I can get there on my own," Kurt assured him as he gestured for Finn to get going. "I'll see you at lunch, yeah?"

"Yep, see you then."

And that was when Kurt spotted her. As Finn walked away with a small wave, Kurt's eyes landed on his mother. She was glowing just slightly as she usually did, as they _all _did, but she had that beaming smile on her face that was so similar to his own and her blue eyes were as bright as they could be as she looked at her son.

"Mom, what are you _doing_ here?" Kurt mumbled under his breath, not even glancing at her as he headed into the school. The last thing he needed on his first day at a new school was getting caught talking to his mother. His _dead_ mother, who no one but him could see and speak to and even touch. All they would think was that he was talking to himself and he didn't want his reputation to be stained with the fact that he was the new kid who was a lunatic and had conversations with himself.

"You think I'd miss my baby boy's first day of school?" Elizabeth replied, ignoring the fact that Kurt had snapped at her.

"I'm starting my junior year, not _kindergarten_, Mom," Kurt rolled his eyes but if he was honest with himself, he was glad she was here. She wasn't always there when he needed her and he hated it but those rare times that she was, he was immensely grateful. When he wanted her there, she usually never showed up in his times of need. But now, she was here and he hadn't even asked for it. Typical.

"Well, I had to come see you here, you know," Elizabeth said, walking steadily in step with Kurt as he strolled down the hall, looking around at McKinley. "Haunting the house was just getting boring and I needed something new to do."

"Because your spying on Dad and his new wife was inconclusive?" Kurt couldn't help but grin at his remark. He knew what his mother was trying to do. "Mom, I _promise_ you he's happy. I swear, Carole is great, she really is. And no one will ever replace you."

Elizabeth huffed out a sigh at Kurt's response, her eyes riddled with sadness. "I know he's happy, Kurt. At first I was skeptical of this Carole woman but I can tell she makes your father happy and that's all I ever wanted, even if it isn't me," Kurt's heart clenched at her words, knowing she wanted so badly to be alive. "And she's good to you, which you know I'd _meddle _if she wasn't."

Kurt laughed at her, knowing full well what _meddling_ meant to her. Spirits could be vindictive and spiteful, it was true, and there had been a few who had made Kurt's life a living hell with their rage and need for revenge after suffering from an untimely death. But most of the time they were just playful and loved to play pranks, like poltergeists. He could just imagine what his mother would do if she truly had taken a disliking to Carole.

"So then what's your deal? If you know Dad is happy, then why are you – " Kurt began but he stopped himself. His mother had that look on her face she sometimes got and Kurt knew why. He had tried for _years _to get her to cross over, but she just couldn't. It was his job as a mediator to get ghosts he encountered to figure out why they were still trapped as spirits in his world when they should move on to their next life. _Whatever_ that may be.

And it hurt to know that the spirit who meant the most to him, the _person _who meant the most to him, he couldn't help. She was hanging around in some sort of half life here on earth and he had no idea why. Not that he hadn't asked. Of course he had. But just like him, Elizabeth had no clue why she was still here.

"Kurt, are _you_ happy?" Elizabeth's blue eyes bore into him and the intensity of her gaze made him shudder. She may have been dead for almost ten years, but in that moment, he could have sworn she was alive and just as real to him as anyone else. "_Are you happy_?"

Kurt sighed, racking his brain for a response. He couldn't lie to her, he really couldn't. She was his mother still and could detect when he lied. He considered himself lucky because even though he had lost his mother at such a young age, he hadn't _really_ lost her. Not like his father had, anyways. He could still see her on a regular basis and talk to her. And if he was being honest with himself, he knew the answer to that question as soon as it had left her lips.

"I'm happy, Mom. I really am."

He could tell his mother didn't actually believe him and he didn't even believe it himself. Her face, though, gave way for a luminous smile at his words and he took that as a good sign. But he had to give his mother some sort of positivity, even if it was fake. She deserved some sort of happiness and it was the best he could do right now, even if it was a bold faced lie. He'd _try_ to be happy for her too, if that was any consolation.

"I think it's high time you tried, Mom. I'm trying for you and you need to try for me, okay?" Kurt asked gently, cupping her cheek in his hand. It was a risky move; anyone could have seen him and wondered why he was clutching at thin air but he didn't care.

"Oh, Kurt," Elizabeth's voice broke as she spoke and so did Kurt's heart. A single lone tear was falling down her cheek and Kurt reached up to wipe it away. "I _have_ tried. But I just _can't_."

Kurt was standing by what was supposed to be his locker in an empty hallway. He knew was late for his first class but he highly doubted they would say anything; he'd just tell them he was new and couldn't find his first class.

Life just wasn't _fair_. He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms and never let go. Just as he was about to embrace his mother, something he rarely ever could do, something he _should_ be able to do with his alive mother, she looked over her shoulder at someone else behind him.

"Will, please," Elizabeth choked out and her lips quivered as she tried to hold back. "_Please_ take care of him."

To say he freaked out was an understatement. Kurt spun around and came face to face with a curly haired man in a vest and by the looks of it, a teacher at his new school. And, not to mention, a _fellow _mediator. He could only gape at him in disbelief, at a complete loss for words.

Will squinted down at him curiously. "I thought so."

"Are you _freaking_ kidding me!" Kurt screeched out, his eyes wide and his draw seemingly on the floor somewhere by now. "I cannot believe this is happening! You can _see_ her?"

Will nodded at Kurt, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I can. I suspected you could be like me, you know. After I heard your father talk about you, I thought your _problems_, so to speak, were just about you being gay, but I knew there was something else going on. I didn't say anything, of course. Until now, that is…"

Kurt barely heard what he was saying now. He had stopped listening after Will had said _yes_, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that _never_ in all of his seventeen years had he met another mediator. "So _that's_ why I couldn't find any spirits here! _You_ got rid of them all!"

Will looked at Kurt modestly and bowed his head, a low laugh escaping him. "You could say that, yes. There weren't as many as you think, but there were quite a few. I was just doing my job, though, helping them as best I could."

Kurt rolled his eyes once again. "You _would_ think of this as some great gift."

"And you don't?"

"Quite frankly, no I don't. I have enough problems in my life being gay and _constantly_ getting thrown around for it. You think it helps that people think I'm from the loony bin? Not that I've told anyone, God _forbid_, but I'm sure that's what they'd say. This particular _gift_ you're so fond of," Kurt put emphasis with air quotes on the word gift. "Feels more like a curse to me."

"You really believe that?" Will said, looking very surprised and Kurt felt sort of sorry for him. He really seemed as though he _enjoyed_ being a mediator. "You think our gift is a _bad_ thing?"

"All it does is get me in trouble and cause me problems. I have had to transfer so many times it's not even funny, and I can never really fit in when people think I'm a lunatic who talks to himself and touches thin air like it's real. I've spent _countless _hours in therapy, trying to explain myself but there's no way you can. They either don't believe me or just think I'm crazy. So I lie," Kurt shrugged at his last words. "Not to mention my poor father who only ever wanted a normal teenage boy. He one hundred percent supports me being gay, don't get me wrong, but I think it might be a shot in the dark to ask him to support my paranormal habits."

Kurt could tell his words were sinking in by the way Will's face contorted with pondering. "I can see how our miraculous gift would be considered somewhat of a hassle and a little… unusual."

"Unusual? Are you _serious_ right now?"

"It never really occurred to me that it must be extremely difficult for those of you without any real support-"

"_Those_ of you?" Kurt raised his eyebrows. "You think there's more than just me and you?"

Will gave him a knowing smile. "I don't think, I _know_. I certainly didn't expect to run into _another _teenage boy with the same ability, but rest assured, he's out there. His name is Sebastian Smythe and he goes to our rival school, Dalton. He's definitely the only other mediator _I've_ met but that doesn't mean that there aren't others."

"And does this _Sebastian_ have the same view as you do?" Kurt was intrigued now; this was all so insane to him. That there wasn't just another mediator out there, but _two_. And there had to be more, just like Will had said. He had to meet this Sebastian kid, if only to know for sure that there was someone else out there like him. "You know, that whole helping spirits cross over thing is so damn wonderful and heartfelt?"

Will scowled at him for his use of language but it quickly changed into a look of what Kurt thought, might be a little caution. "Sebastian… has his own method of dealing with spirits. It's not one I necessarily agree with."

Kurt knit his eyebrows in confusion. "How so?"

"I don't think he has the best of intentions," Will said slowly, clarifying for Kurt. "I'm not entirely sure what his motives are at times, but he has come through for me on occasion when I've needed his help to deal to with some particularly… vicious spirits, if you will. So I can't exactly say he's a bad guy."

"That's not really a stellar character reference."

This time, it was Elizabeth who spoke. She had been mainly silent during their discussion, letting Kurt bask in the fact that _finally _there was someone like him. But at the mention of Sebastian, she had decided to throw in her two cents. "Kurt, he's not like you. And he's not like Will. He's selfish and wants nothing more than to get his way and he's used plenty of spirits for that. Lord _knows _he'll take advantage of this newfound knowledge somehow. And I don't want you to get hurt."

Kurt's demeanor softened at his mother's words. She was looking out for him, just as a mother would on something like this. But he knew this was different. For one, he knew he could take care of himself. After all, he'd been doing it for seventeen years and he was sure he could keep doing it. And second, he had another mediator on his side this time. That made a huge difference, even if Will wasn't exactly the type of mediator he'd have chosen. But beggars can't be choosers, right?

He looked pointedly at his mother and lied to her face for the second time that day. "Everything is going to be okay."

How very wrong he was.

* * *

"Kurt?"

Kurt knew his father's voice from a mile away and yet it seemed very foreign in their new home. "I'm in my new room, Dad!"

Burt slowly opened the door to find Kurt standing there and he knew Kurt was just drumming up ways to decorate his new room. He smiled at that, knowing that was what Kurt loved most about this moving thing; that he'd get to deck out his new room in style. "You okay, buddy?"

Kurt gave him a warm smile. He had to admit, he loved his father more than anything else in this entire world and it filled a little whole in his heart to know that Burt was finally happy again. And Kurt appreciated the fact that Burt had stood by him every step of the way, even unknowingly as his only son helped the undead cross over, unbeknownst to him. He had never asked questions, at least not so big that Kurt would have to tell him the truth, and every time Kurt got in trouble for something, Burt had always chalked it up to the death of his mother at such an early age. He'd never outright said anything to his father about his ability. He knew that his father only believed in what he could see, and to him, that meant no ghosts whatsoever.

Kurt couldn't even begin to say how much he wished he could be like him.

"I'm glad you like this place, Kurt," Burt said. "I was sort of worried because I know how you get about… old places."

Old places were the worst for Kurt, as there was a higher chance that someone had died there and was still stuck there, waiting for his help. He'd been caught numerous times in old buildings, graveyards, churches, temples, mosques, other people's houses… you name it. He could understand why his father was now sitting on his bed, lecturing him about fresh starts and their new life here. But it was getting sort of weird, considering there was someone else listening in on their conversation. Someone only Kurt could see. And this time, it wasn't his mother.

It was definitely _not_ his mother.

He tried to stay focused on his father as he rattled on, but it was getting to be sort of hard. Kurt could see him out of the corner of his eye, and needless to say, the glow he set off wasn't _just_ because he was dead.

Kurt had met many attractive ghosts in his day. But this one… this one, he thought, took the cake. He was quite simply, gorgeous. He must have been quite something back in his day and, judging by his outfit, was some time ago. He had on pleated pants rolled up just above his ankle, dress shoes without a trace of socks, a checkered shirt rolled up to his elbows that was adorned with a cardigan and of course, a damn bowtie. It made Kurt want to burst into laughter but he held back, letting his eyes linger for a moment on his biceps which looked particularly strong from this angle. He wondered what other muscles this guy had; did ghosts have six packs? It wasn't something he'd ever had the occasion to wonder, or desire. His eyes drifted upward to slicked back hair that was heavy with gel. He had rosy lips too, full and plump and Kurt bit his own lip, trying not to think about _those_ in any capacity. But what really caught Kurt's attention, were his _eyes. _They were hazel, he could see, but so very golden. And they sparkled and were so bright, flickering and dancing like he had never seen from anyone before, dead _or_ alive.

_Holy mother of God._

"I should let you finish unpacking and we'll talk more about your first day over dinner, okay?"

Burt's voice snapped him back to reality and it hit him like a train. What the _hell_ was he doing, standing there, practically drooling over a _dead _guy? "Sounds like a plan, Dad."

Burt nodded and got up, almost out the door before he turned back to face Kurt. His eyes, Kurt could see, were brimming with tears. "I just want you to be happy, Kurt. That's all I ever wanted. Do you think you can be happy here?"

Kurt strode across the room and wrapped the burly figure in an embrace, gripping him tightly. "I am happy, Dad. I feel at home already." And Kurt wasn't lying either. He'd had ghosts in his bedroom all the time where they used to live.

Burt finally left, okay with the answer that Kurt given him, and Kurt waited for the sound of his boots to disappear from the stairs before he turned around to face the spirit and said, hands planted firmly on his hips. "So, Dapper Dan, care to explain who you are and what you're doing in my room?"


	2. Chapter 2

To say that the ghost currently occupying his bedroom was surprised would have been quite the understatement on Kurt's part. He didn't just look surprised; he even went so far as to look over his shoulder to see if there was someone else behind him that Kurt might possibly be talking to. But the only thing behind him was what Kurt could see out the window and it certainly wasn't anyone else.

"Oh, my God," he said, in a manner that had Kurt practically swooning. Even his voice was worthy of him turning into a puddle of goo on the floor. "Oh, my God."

"It's no use calling on your higher power," Kurt informed him, pointing one finger upwards, his eyes glancing at the ceiling above him. "In case you haven't noticed, He hasn't exactly been paying you any attention. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been stuck here for what, like fifty years?"

"You – you can _see _me?" The ghost breathed out, and it sounded to Kurt like it was rusty from a lack of use. "I don't understand, how after all these years, no one has ever been able to see me but you."

"Believe me, I wish I wasn't," Kurt shot back. He had to be mean to this ghost, he just _had_ to. Because he knew if he was _nice_ to him, it might land him in some serious trouble. "So tell me, what's keeping you here, Dapper Dan?"

"It's Blaine."

"I'm sorry?"

The ghost had just a tiny smirk on his face as he peered up at him through thick, dark eyelashes that were impossibly long. Kurt swallowed, _hard_. "My name isn't Dan. It's Blaine."

"Okay, _Blaine_," Kurt responded, huffing out a sigh. He really was _not _in the mood for this. "Just tell me what's keeping you here and I'll help you get to your next destination. You can't keep hanging around here."

_Blaine_ crossed his arms over his chest in defense. "And what if I happen to _like_ hanging around here?"

"That's not how it works, Blaine."

"And you?" Blaine ignored his comment, instead asking his own question.

Kurt just looked at him then. This Blaine guy was a piece of work. "And me what?"

"What's your name?"

"Kurt," Kurt decided to humor him. Maybe, just maybe, if he played nice, this ghost would just go away and leave him alone. "Kurt Hummel."

"Ah, I see," Blaine remarked, still in his defensive stance. "And this is your room now, is it?"

"Yeah," Kurt gulped again because now Blaine was actually grinning at him. And damn, did he have a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. Which for Kurt, were quite distracting. "So I suggest you get out."

"_I_ have to get out?" Blaine blanched back at him, raising those muscular arms in frustration. "This was _my_ room!"

"I'm pretty sure you're dead," It was Kurt's turn to fold his arms over his chest as he raised one eyebrow. "And I'm not sharing my room with some dead, prep school boy from the fifties."

That got to Blaine. Kurt could see him slam his foot onto the ground and he stood up. He was shorter than Kurt by just a margin but he was a lot more intimidating, and an expert in his ghostly abilities, Kurt could see. The mirror above Kurt's dresser shook and was teetering on the edge, which he knew wasn't from some earthquake but from Blaine's agitation at Kurt's insult.

"How dare you say something like that!" Blaine raged, wagging a finger in Kurt's face.

Okay, that was it. Kurt reached to grab hold of the finger that Blaine was practically shoved in his face, and yanked Blaine towards him. He almost instantly regretted it, now that Blaine's face was mere inches from his own. "Stop shaking my damn mirror. And stop with the finger in my face. I'll break it if you do it again."

Kurt knew ghosts didn't have blood, considering they were _dead_, but in that moment, he could have sworn all the color had drained from Blaine's face. Any normal person would have tried to latch onto Blaine and would have failed, having their hand just go right through him. But not for Kurt. He could touch Blaine in the same way he could touch his father; as if Blaine was as real to him anyone else.

This realization didn't exactly bode well for him.

Blaine, looking down at his finger like Kurt had _actually _broken it like he had threatened to, seemed incapable of a response at that point. It was probably the first time Blaine had been touched in any sort of way in over fifty years. Kurt broke into a smug smile, pleased that he had rendered Blaine speechless and decided to take advantage of his silence.

"Look, Blaine. This is my room now, do you understand?" Kurt told him in the most firm tone he could muster. "So either you let me help you get to wherever it is that you need to go or you go haunt someone somewhere else. But you _can't _stay here."

Blaine looked up at him, his eyes clouded with disbelief as his lips parted. "What kind of… _boy_ are you?"

Kurt dropped the finger he was holding, mildly offended by Blaine's words. Intentional or unintentional, Blaine had insinuated that Kurt wasn't a boy. It wasn't like he hadn't heard it before. He knew his high voice could easily be mistaken for a girl's and his outfits weren't always catered to his gender but it did sort of sting, especially from Blaine.

"I'll tell you what kind of boy I'm _not_," Kurt fumed, addressing Blaine with a look that could kill. "I'm not the kind of a boy who shares his room with another boy that he just met, no matter _what_ he looks like."

Kurt couldn't believe he'd said that, but it was too late to take the words back now. The thing with being a mediator, was that he tried never to reveal that he _was_ one. But _especially_ a gay one. And particularly never to ghosts, because most of them weren't from his time. They either wouldn't understand him liking boys or they'd understand and just hate him for it. And Kurt knew ghosts could take things to a whole new level if they wanted to, a _violent_ level and he wasn't about to be a target to any of them.

And he knew Blaine was from a different era, an era which Kurt was certain was one where being gay was frowned upon even more so than now. Judging from the way he dressed and the way he talked, Kurt would have guessed the fifties. And from what Kurt knew of the fifties, he knew that Blaine was supposed to be the perfect, polite gentleman who went to work while his housewife took care of their kids in the beautiful home, surrounded by a white picket fence. Blaine had probably never encountered anyone who was gay, let alone be overly fond of anyone who was if he had.

He had basically admitted to Blaine that not only was he gay, but that he found Blaine attractive. Kurt had just put his foot in his mouth. Big time.

Kurt was hesitant to meet Blaine's eye, but when he finally did, he could see that his honey colored eyes were soft and sympathetic. And even, Kurt thought, apologetic. He had expected them to be angry and cold but they weren't. Not at _all._

"I'm really sorry, Kurt," Blaine said so softly and gently that Kurt believed him. It was the first time that Blaine had said his name and he _liked_ the way it sounded rolling off of Blaine's tongue. "I didn't realize you were…"

"Now you do," Kurt said icily. He was bracing himself for whatever Blaine was inevitably going to dole out. He was pretty sure this would be the last of Blaine that he would be seeing now that he knew. "Not that you'd know anything about that."

"Actually," Blaine said so quietly, that Kurt thought he had imagined him speaking altogether. "I do know what it's like."

Kurt was pretty sure that, for the second time that day, he'd be scrambling to find out where his jaw had hit the floor. Internally, the butterflies in his stomach were in overdrive now and they flipped and flopped, dancing around inside. Blaine had just admitted that he was _gay_. At least that's what Kurt had gathered from what he had said. He wanted to jump for joy, because yeah, Blaine was dead and Kurt was the only one who could see him. Well, aside from Will and that Sebastian kid. But he was _gay_ and Kurt would call that progress.

Kurt was just about to formulate a response to Blaine's admittance, probably not a very coherent or educated one since his head was spinning, when he heard his father's voice drift up the stairs, "Kurt, the phone is for you!"

Kurt almost couldn't tear his eyes away from Blaine. Blaine was just gazing at him now, his eyes filled with sadness and hurt etched on his features. Kurt wondered then, how Blaine had died and what his life had been like back then and these past fifty years or so. It made his insides twist but in a very different way than before.

Kurt grabbed the extension that his father had put in his room, and picked up the call. "Hello?"

"Kurt," the voice on the other end said, and Kurt knew it from somewhere. It sounded vaguely familiar. "Kurt, this is Will Schuester, from school?"

When Kurt acknowledged that he knew who his mystery caller was, Mr. Schuester let out a breath of air and Kurt just _knew _something was wrong; he could hear it in the tenseness of his voice and the panic began to set in. "Kurt, we have a problem. A ghost problem."


	3. Chapter 3

"Next time you call the house, please_ try_ and disguise yourself or something. My dad was _totally_ suspicious that a teacher called the house after _one_ day of school."

This was how Kurt found himself seated in a chair across from Will Schuester in his office. He leaned back in the chair, tossing Mr. Schuester's rubber band ball between his hands, watching him. "I apologize, Kurt, for making you wait," Will said, peering up at him from where he was jotting down notes on a piece of paper. "I just have to finish up potential songs for our set list."

A lone eyebrow shot up from Kurt's pale face. "_You_ teach Glee club?"

"Sure do," Will beamed at him. "Interested in joining?"

"I would love to, Mr. Schue, but unfortunately I only have time for _one_ extracurricular activity," Kurt couldn't help but break into a grin. Sometimes his own wit amazed him. "Kicking ghost butt and taking names."

"Speaking of which…"

"Do tell, Yoda," Kurt said, wagging his eyebrows playfully. "What's the paranormal emergency?"

Will shot him a look that spoke volumes and Kurt could tell that whatever it was, Will definitely needed his help. Kurt knew that Will hadn't had any other mediator to help him out. Well, except maybe that Sebastian kid but Kurt could tell from his mother's warnings that _he_ was a last resort. He smiled to himself, happy that he finally had someone he could come to with his paranormal tales, even if he and Will didn't exactly see eye to eye.

"There's a spirit that I have tried numerous times to help, but he… refuses," Will began. "And at first, his antics were small but now it's getting worse and I'm just worried that it'll escalate to a level soon that we can't control. He's angry and violent and wants revenge, and I can't exactly say I blame him, given what happened but it's not the type of behavior I can condone here, Kurt."

"Who was this kid?"

"Dave Karofsky," Will's voice caught on the name and Kurt could tell this kid held _some _meaning to him. It was personal this time. "He was on the football team and he even sang a little in Glee club."

Kurt bit his lip before asking, "Was that why there was yellow caution tape all over the football team's locker?"

Will nodded and spoke very softly to Kurt. "He committed suicide about a week ago."

Kurt remained quiet for a few minutes after that. Sure, he was used to dealing with death all the time. He'd lost his mother at an early age, for one. And on a daily basis, he met dead people from all walks of life who had died in every which way he could imagine. But something like this was when it hit too close to him. A teenage boy committing suicide? And Kurt just knew it was because of whatever pressures he was feeling at home and at school, and Kurt would venture to guess that sexuality played a least somewhat of a role.

"For the record, Mr. Schue, I have absolutely nothing in common with a football player who killed himself," Kurt muttered, hoping Mr. Schue wouldn't notice the way his voice was breaking. "So I don't know how much help I can be."

"Actually, you just might," Will said. "Dave Karofsky was… in the closet, for lack of a better term."

Kurt had the urge to roll his eyes. He knew it. "Really, Mr. Schue, that's our in? You want me to play the gay card?"

"Kurt, Dave was really starting to make progress, believe it or not. Sure, he was still bullying kids here but I know that's largely due to his insecurities," Will looked at him grimly when Kurt began to protest. A closeted football player who was also the biggest bully of them all? Of course this was how the story was going to go. "He was struggling but I know that he was seen a few times at Scandals, the gay club across town, and they say he was really starting to fit in. But when he got rejected by his crush here, and the school started bullying _him _for being gay, it just all became too much. And I know you can understand what he was going through.

"If you've ever been in love, it's an amazing feeling. But it's a horrible feeling to be a gay teenager and get rejected by your crush, considering there are so few of us out here to begin with. And if he was so new to all of this, then it must have hit _really_ hard."

Will eyed him thoughtfully. "Speaking from experience?"

"Please," Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes. He wanted to play this off and he was trying to, but this was a sore subject for him. "As if. I've had crushes and all that but I can't say that any of them have returned the favor."

Much to his chagrin, of course. And his current crush, the hottie haunting his bedroom, didn't seem to be overly fond of him, either. Which was probably for the best, because how would it ever work if Blaine was dead and he wasn't?

But he could dream, right?

"But I can _imagine_ how Dave must have felt."

"Enough to kill himself?"

Kurt pursed his lips, and pondered for a moment. "I can't say what I'd do if someone pushed me that far. I honestly don't know, but I don't think it'd ever be enough for me to do that. Unfortunately, not everyone is as lucky as me to have a supportive family. I just don't think I could. I couldn't do that to my father."

Will nodded slowly, just the slight dip of his head twice. "But as it turns out, killing himself wasn't enough. It won't be enough until he takes him down as well."

"Who are you talking about?"

Kurt watched as Will scrubbed a hand over his face in what seemed to be frustration. "He tried to hurt Finn Hudson the other day. And he'll try and try again until he succeeds."

"_What_?" Kurt practically screamed this time. It was one thing to know this Karofsky kid had been bullying gay kids when he alive and trying to make someone just as dead as he was. But the fact it was new brother? That was going _way_ too far and something in him snapped then. "_Finn_ is the one that Karofsky liked?"

Before Will could even let his response roll off his tongue, Kurt had exploded. "You know what?" Kurt yelled, standing up this time. "Don't answer that. It's time me and this Karofsky kid had a face to face interaction."

"Kurt! Violence isn't the answer here!" And this time, Will had stood up to face Kurt. "You're supposed to help spirits, not _hurt_ them."

"I was all for playing nice until you informed me that the guy that Karofsky's been messing with is my _brother_," Kurt glared at Will, not understanding how Will could be so passive about this. He wasn't about to let this slide and he knew it was time to take matters into his own hands. "And sure, Finn isn't my real brother. But he's my brother in every way that counts. And I'll be _damned _if I have to watch him die at Karofsky's hands because I stood around and chose to do absolutely nothing!"

And with those parting words, Kurt was out the door. Kurt could hear Mr. Schuester calling his name as he strode out but the effort was futile. Kurt was determined this time.

* * *

When Kurt got home, he said his quick round of hello's to everyone in the house and headed up to his room. What he really wanted was a nap but he knew sleep would never come. His mind was too clouded and filled for him to even catch a wink.

He sighed in relief when he noticed that for once, he was alone in his bedroom that entire night. Maybe he had really gotten rid of Blaine.

And yet, he couldn't shake that slight feeling of disappointment at the notion that his wish _might _actually have come true.

It figured that when he wished for his one true love to come into his life, fat chance it would. But when he wished away the hot guy from his bedroom, he actually _listened_.

Or maybe he hadn't.

"Jesus, Blaine," Kurt said as he caught a glimpse of his reflection from his mirror. Kurt had been seeing ghosts for years now but it still freaked him out every time one materialized in front of him without a warning. "You're still here? I thought I told you to get lost."

Blaine was leaning very casually against one of Kurt's bed posts, arms folded across his chest and one triangular eyebrow raised at Kurt. "Isn't it a little late to be going out, Kurt?"

Blaine was eyeing him up and down, a smirk on his lips. Kurt had to admit, the outfit that Blaine had seen him in the previous day was the polar opposite of the one he had on now. It was definitely not one of his usual fashion statements. Kurt liked to call this one his ghost busting outfit; black jeans, black boots, black shirt and a black hoodie, an outfit he could kick some ass in if need be.

And he had a feeling it would be.

"How about you try getting out of my room, Blaine?" Kurt sneered at him. Damn Blaine and his pretty face. It made it very hard for Kurt to be mean to him. "And my business, too?"

Blaine didn't move from his spot. "Your father wouldn't want you doing this."

"My father," Kurt glared up at him. Blaine was pushing it. "And what would _you_ know about my father?"

"I like your father very much," Blaine said calmly but his golden eyes were dancing bright in the moonlight. "He is a good man and I think you're lucky to have a father who loves you so much. It would upset him, I would think, to know that you're deliberately putting yourself in harm's way."

Kurt noticed the way Blaine's voice had changed slightly when he had mentioned that Kurt was lucky to have a father who loved him. It dawned on Kurt then, that maybe _Blaine _hadn't been so lucky. Just one of the many Blaine mysteries.

"I can take care of myself."

That was a big fat lie and Kurt knew it, but how would _Blaine_ know?

"Can you?" Blaine lifted one his triangular eyebrow dubiously at him again. Kurt was starting to notice things about him, which he probably shouldn't be. Like the light spatter of freckles across his face and how just one curl had broken free from the prison of gel. "I don't think so, sweetheart. Not in this case."

Kurt _really_ hoped that Blaine couldn't see the way his face flushed, the blush steadily creeping onto his face and over his neck. Blaine had called him _sweetheart_.

And okay, maybe he hadn't meant it the way Kurt wished he had. In fact, Kurt was certain he hadn't. But it didn't stop his insides from getting those familiar butterflies he seemed to get whenever Blaine was around.

"I know where you're going, Kurt," Blaine said, his eyebrows now knit in concentration and his honey colored eyes bore into Kurt's own ocean blue ones. "You are going down to the school to talk to that boy, the one that tried to hurt the other boy you seem fond of. But I am _telling_ you, sweetheart, that he is too much to handle on your own. If you absolutely have to go, I suggest you bring that teacher with you."

Kurt stared at him, wide eyed and open mouthed. For one, there was that _word_ again. And how could Blaine have known all of this? "Have you been following me? Because there is no other way that you could possibly know of all that."

"All I know is that you're putting yourself in the path of danger."

"_Path of danger_? You have been following me!" Kurt said, stabbing a finger at him accusingly. "Blaine, Finn is my brother, thank you very much! I don't need you _spying_ on me."

Blaine made what Kurt was sure was quite a rude gesture back in his day. "You are _not _going anywhere."

"Try and stop me, cadaver breath."

Blaine did a pretty good job at trying to stop Kurt. Kurt's hand had been on the doorknob when he felt the lock twist into place underneath his palm. He stared down at the handle, and pulled on it but he knew it was worthless. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to figure out his next move as he turned back to face Blaine.

"_Blaine_," Kurt knew he was sounding desperate now. "That was uncalled for."

Blaine was starting to look _very_ uncomfortable at this point. Kurt could tell that he wasn't too pleased with what he had just done. Whatever had gotten him killed in his previous life, Kurt knew it hadn't been because he was a bad person in any sort of way. Blaine was a _good_ guy. Kurt knew he was trying to be.

"I can't let you go, Kurt," Blaine voice was just above a whisper and so, _so_ close to Kurt. It was lilted with concern and worry and caution too, for Kurt. "_Please_ don't go. David is not like the other spirits you might have met. He _will_ kill you if he can."

Kurt mustered an encouraging smile. "Then it's up to me to stop him."

Blaine was still looking uncomfortable but very firm. Kurt looked down at his hand and he noticed that it was tan and big and his fingers were long. He had a really good grip for a dead guy, or even a live guy. And Kurt let his mind wander briefly to just how _nice_ of a grip Blaine had and where it _could_ grip…

Blaine saw Kurt's gaze drop and his eyes fell to where Kurt's were, and snapped his hand back as if Kurt had set it on fire. He stepped away from Kurt, his eyes wide. Kurt couldn't exactly see him because the moonlight was behind him but he _did_ hear that soft, pleading tone.

"_Kurt_."

And when Kurt was finally out the door and down the steps to his new home, he looked back up into his window, wondering if Blaine might still be there.

But he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt found that the school looked immensely different at night. During the day, the parking lot was full with teachers and students but now it was completely empty. There was a lone streetlight shining bright on the school. Kurt hated this part, the part where he had to sneak out and lie to his father. The part where he was basically alone at night with a murderous spirit and could possibly end up dead as well.

Well.

Kurt Hummel was _born_ for this.

He wasn't really sure how he had managed it, but somehow he'd been able to break into the school. He was sauntering down the hallway now, his eyes darting back and forth to see if he was really alone.

But he wasn't.

Kurt saw him, just leaning against his locker as if it was the most casual and normal thing to do. And Kurt supposed it must have been, back when he was alive. To Karofsky, this was a daily habit when he was alive and in school. Why would it change _now_?

He had on his letterman jacket, Kurt could tell, emblazoned with a large 'M' and plenty of patches and awards scattered across. He was big and burly and Kurt might have even thought he was cute in that bear cub sort of way, if he didn't have that sneer across his face. That look of disgust and a look that told Kurt he was a pompous asshole with one _hell_ of a grudge.

"_This_ was the mediator they sent to try and get rid of me?" Karofsky laughed and it wasn't a nice laugh, either. "A _fairy _boy?"

Kurt chose to ignore that comment even though he could feel his anger starting to boil. This was _not _going to be as easy as he thought. "Karofsky, I think it's time that you and I had a talk."

"Why would I want to talk to _you_, homo?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at Karofsky. He'd heard all the insults. It wasn't as if Karofsky was being creative. "Give it up, Karofksy. Mr. Schuester told me _all _about you, if you catch my drift."

Karofsky's eyes widened at this. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"_Really?_" Kurt ground out at him. "You're _dead_, David. There's no use hiding now. I'm the only who can hear you now and your secret is safe with me."

"So what do you _want_, pretty boy?" Kurt sensed an air of desperation from him, and it hit Kurt just how alone and broken David was. And had been in his previous life, too. "You think you can just come into _my_ school and – "

"It's not your school anymore, David, remember?" Kurt stated gently. "Finn rejected _you_. And instead of picking up the pieces and moving on, _you _gave up. It would have gotten better. It really would have. But instead, you took the easy and the selfish way out."

David's grew bigger than Kurt had ever seen. "Shut up."

"You decided to run away and grab that belt and wrap it around your neck and end it all," Kurt continued steadily and he could see David's blood boiling right before him. But he continued to push. "Because you were too ignorant to realize that _no_ boy, not even Finn Hudson, is worth losing your life over."

"Shut _up_!"

This time he didn't just say it, but he _screamed_ it. So loudly that he had to ball his fists up to get that momentum, and close his eyes with his shoulders squared. Normal people couldn't hear ghosts scream but Kurt sure could. He even saw the lights flicker a few times before him and the way the lockers slightly shook.

"I know you made a mistake, David. And it must not feel very good to know that you did that in the heat of the moment and you can't ever take it back. But you have _got_ to stop this, David! You can't go around hurting people just because you killed yourself and you're mad because you're stuck here!"

"I just want my life back!" David's eyes were filling with tears and his face was scrunching up in pain. "I want to go _back_!"

"You can _start over_, David!" Kurt said, trying to use his eyes to get him to understand. "It doesn't have to be this way!"

Karofsky sniffled and stopped in his tracks. "You mean, I can go back?"

Kurt nodded fervently. "You can start over."

"All I have wanted since it happened was to go back."

"No, David," This time, Kurt shook his head. David wasn't getting the message. "You misunderstand me. You can never have your old life back. But you can start over with a new one, a new life. It has to be better than this, than being alone and going around hurting people."

"You said I could back!"

Kurt realized, all in a flash, that he had lost David. The ground beneath him was beginning to shake and the lockers that weren't occupied were started to rattle. Pictures and posters were being ripped of the walls and a trophy case nearby shattered, glass flying to the floor. _Everything _was starting to shake and rattle violently around him.

Kurt could see that David had been _practicing_.

Kurt knew it was time to _get out of there_.

He moved so fast that he thought hasn't noticed him trying to escape. But he had, and Kurt knew that he wasn't too pleased that Kurt was trying to bail already. In retaliation, without really lifting a finger, the mascot that was perched on the wall above them came hurtling towards Kurt. It hung in the air momentarily and what was the usual smile from the Titan was now a twisted, demonic sneer that knocked Kurt right off his feet and straight to the ground.

"Get _up_!" Kurt heard a voice boom harshly in his ear. "I thought you were supposed to be _good _at this!"

Kurt turned and widened his eyes as the Titan exploded right next to his cheek. Things had gotten _way _out of hand _way_ too quick.

And then there was Blaine, gripping him and pulling him up from underneath his arm. "Jesus Christ," Blaine sputtered, panting as leaned on the wall with Kurt next to him. "You said you could take care of yourself. You said you could get rid of him. Right!"

Kurt chose to ignore Blaine that moment. Although, he was immensely grateful that Blaine was there to save him. He would never admit this to Blaine but Karofsky was too much to handle on his own and he needed all the help he could get.

"Cadaver breath," Blaine breathed out, his chest rising and falling heavily. "You realize that's what you called me? That hurt, you know, sweetheart. It really did."

"Just shut up for five seconds and let me _think!_"

Blaine scowled at him. "I would appreciate if you wouldn't make disparaging remarks about my breath!"

"Look, Blaine," Kurt began. "Stop worrying about that right now. Don't you have any suggestions?"

"_Run_."

It was the only word that left Blaine's rosy lips but Kurt wasted no time in taking his advice. He ran, Blaine following closely behind him, into an empty classroom and he watched as Blaine flung just one of the chairs towards the window to break it. Behind them, they could hear the banging and the wailing and Blaine shot him an impatient look. "Hurry, please?"

Kurt didn't need to be told twice. He slung his legs over the window and hopped down, dropping straight into the parking lot. When he looked back up, he could see Blaine still holding himself against the door to block Karofsky from getting to either of them. He wondered, if Karofsky was able to get in, if Blaine had any cool tricks like the ones Karofsky had pulled to use against him. But Kurt didn't want to leave Blaine in Karofsky's range. "Blaine, let's go!"

Kurt was no coward, it was true. But even he knew when enough was enough and when he was up against a force greater than his own. It was perfectly okay to run. But it was _not_ okay to leave others behind.

"_Blaine_!"

"I thought I told you," Blaine's irritated voice came from behind him. "To run."

"Oh my, God, _Blaine_," Kurt had never been this scared in his entire life. And here was Blaine, standing right in front of him, the ghost who'd just saved his life. He couldn't help it; he reached out and grabbed the front of Blaine's cardigan with both hands, pulling him that much closer. "Are you okay?"

Blaine looked taken aback and surprised that Kurt had even asked. And he supposed it _was _stupid to ask. It wasn't as if Karofsky could have _killed_ Blaine. He was already dead.

"I'm okay. Are _you_ okay?" Blaine asked, his voice so soft and concerned as he looked at Kurt. Kurt felt almost embarrassed under the gaze of those honey colored eyes. They were so expressive and so intense that Kurt just could _not_ look away. Bright and dancing and so incredibly close to Kurt now, he noticed every speck as Blaine looked him up and down, his iron grip firm on Kurt's shoulders. "Kurt, you're bleeding…"

Kurt looked down at the small stains flowering the pavement and to his wrist, where a tiny vein was open and leaking blood just slightly. He saw that there were patches similar to the ones on the ground on Blaine's shirt. He didn't even know how he'd gotten it and it didn't hurt, but he knew it was probably when Blaine had broken that window and he had climbed out.

He stood there, staring at his wrist dumbfounded , watching as the blood oozed out. Ever the gentleman, Blaine stuck one hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a handkerchief, wrapping it snugly but not too tight around Kurt's wrist. He didn't say anything to Kurt while he was doing this, just concentrating on placing the makeshift tourniquet over his skin. Kurt had never had a ghost perform first aid on him but Kurt was positively _swooning _at this.

He was falling for Blaine. Fast _and_ hard.

"There you go," Blaine snapped him back to reality with that ever dazzling smile of his. "Did that hurt?"

Kurt shook his head at Blaine, unable to form the words. He could feel the tears threatening to spill and the last thing he wanted was for Blaine to see him cry. "Thank you, Blaine."

It was the only response he could muster without breaking. But of course, Blaine seemed to notice and gave him another smile, a special one, Kurt knew, just for him. Because Blaine didn't _have_ anyone else but Kurt and he hadn't for a very long time. And it was that caring smile, a gentle one and a knowing one, one that stretched up to Blaine's eyes and made them crinkle. "My pleasure."

No ghost had _ever_ been like this to him. Where was his mother when this was all happening? She tried; Kurt could say that, she really did. But she had never exactly come through for him in a crisis like this one.

But Blaine. _Blaine_ had come through for him. And Kurt hadn't even asked him to.

"I really mean it, Blaine," Kurt managed to choke out and oh, _hell_. He couldn't stop them _now_. He could feel the warm, saltiness slide down his cheeks and Blaine reached up to wipe them away, stilling Kurt in his tracks. "Thank you for this."

And Kurt wasn't exactly the biggest fan of people touching him. He especially hated it when ghosts touched him because usually, it turned into less than amazing results. Ones that had him with a fist in his face, was how it normally would have gone.

But there was _Blaine_, who was looking at him with those golden eyes and Kurt could see the hesitation in them. Blaine was working something over in his head and Kurt wanted to know just what it was. He moved a thumb to swipe over Kurt's cheek, brushing away the last tear that had fallen. And his strong arms, the one's Kurt had longed to feel around his body, _were_ around his torso, pulling him in for a tight hug.

Blaine was _clinging_ to him. He was holding onto him like he never wanted to let go, and he buried his face in Kurt's neck, breathing him in. As if he were trying to make sure Kurt was _really_ there and not just a part of his imagination.

Kurt couldn't resist the urge to hug back and he closed eyes, letting himself go into the embrace. He realized that this was probably the only contact that Blaine had had in over fifty years and it felt so _good_. Kurt could feel Blaine's warm breath on his neck as he said in just above a whisper, "Let's go home."

Kurt _really_ liked the sound of that.

He could get used to this.


End file.
